


enchanted

by rhys_winz



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dragons, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fairies, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, King Jack, Kings & Queens, M/M, Magic, Middle Ages, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Prince Rhys, Siren!Rhys, eventual everything geez, lesbian angel ftw :'), this is a shitshow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:09:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhys_winz/pseuds/rhys_winz
Summary: Upon Angel's eighteenth birthday, she must find someone to take her hand in marriage to continue the royal family of Hyperion. During the proposal ceremony, a certain young and gorgeous Atlas prince catches King Jack's eye, and the older man becomes completely wrapped around his finger. Not your typical children's fairy tale, this is the whole crazy, taboo story of Jack and Rhys, full of adventure, love, and betrayal. And magic. And fairies. And dragons.((WIP, totally unbetaed, adding tags as I go.))





	1. I. the shadow

**Author's Note:**

> um hi?? i'm back after a few months?? happy summer yall
> 
> i was looking through some old notes and i made this medieval au thing with my friend katie like a year ago and only now am i actually working on it oops. this should be fun
> 
> um some basic stuff basically eridium is very powerful magic. it's quite rare but if ur a rich bitch or a witch/wizard then you can get ur hands on some.
> 
> thank you for all the support, comments, kudos, and bookmarks while i was gone ♡ i'll try to keep up with this fic bc i love this kinda fantasy stuff tbh. first chapters kinda boring but next one should be much more fun ooo

"Dad, I don't want to get married."

Jack sighs for what he feels like is the quadrillionth time, leaning back in his wooden chair with a creak. He drops his golden silverware onto the plate with a loud clank and presses the palms of his hands into his eyes.

"Baby, we've been over this a million times-"

"I know, I know. _'Angel, you need to keep the family name going!'_ " Angel imitates Jack with a silly voice, much to his amusement, and sets down her silverware delicately. She proceeds to rest her elbows on the table and rests her head tiredly in her hand, disregarding manners since she knows her father didn't really care when only he was around. "But I don't... I don't want to be forced to love someone I don't really love at all. Marriage is the tie between two _lovers_ , not two strangers."

"I know, sweetheart, but you're reaching the age where if you don't find someone now, there'll be no time to actually have an heir to the throne," Jack rubs his mismatched eyes and flicks them across the grand table, between the feast before them on glittering gold plates and the dancing flames atop white candlesticks. "I didn't make the rules, sweetheart."

"You're the _king_ , for God's sake, you can do whatever the hell you want to the rules!" Angel throws her hands in the air, rolling her eyes as she sits back in her chair with a frown.

"Hey, _language,_ " Jack narrows his eyes slightly. "And it's not like I'm forcing you to marry a complete stranger. There's going to be a variety of different guys from different families that will want to take your hand and treat you like the strong, beautiful queen you'll become."

Angel smiles softly a little at that, but drops it quickly. "But what if I don't like any of them though? What if none of them are right for... me? Royal boys are usually just a bunch of cocky pricks with egos bigger than their entire castle."

Jack lets out a chuckle at that and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as well ("Hell to manners," Jack always says. "Just act like a lady when those cocksucker lords are around"), "Trust me, sweetheart, don't I know it. I'm one of those royal boys." Angel lets out a little snicker at that. "But don't you worry. Everything'll be as fine as wine."

"How would you know? You didn't have to go through an arranged marriage."

"It's not an arranged marriage. An arranged marriage is when _I_ force _you_ to marry someone that _I_ want you to marry. I'm givin' you some leeway here to pick, baby," Jack waves his hands around while he talks. "And I didn't have to go through this because, one, you know guys don't do proposal ceremonies, and two, your bitch of a mother had you _before_ I took this shithole over from Tassiter by climbing up the social class and killing him _myself._ If I hadn't made my way up from a peasant to a lord by pulling some shifty shit, you'd be working as a serf on someone else's shitty plot right now. A, _'thanks, dad!'_ would be nice."

Angel keeps her mouth shut for a moment before letting out another sigh, fully putting her face in her hands with a groan as the front pieces of her jet black hair fall softly out of her braid. Her blue tattoos across her chest and on her exposed forearm begin to start glowing white.

"Sometimes I wish I was rather a commoner. At least I'd be able to wear what I want and do what I want and marry who I want. Maybe if mom was still alive, she'd stick up for me, but _nooo,_ I just have to be perfect all the time and have a perfect husband and some perfect kids and a stupid _perfect life!_ "

Angel scoots out of her chair harshly and wipes her eyes as she makes her way to the tall wooden doors of the dining room, the flames of candles blowing out in the pressure of her siren powers. A guard seems to watch her, stepping to follow, but Angel presses a hand in the air to halt him.

"Angel, don't be like that-"

"Leave me alone!"

There's a slam of the door and Jack sits back and sighs as he picks up his fork again to pick at his mutton and beans, the previous conversation with Angel taking a toll on his appetite. He sits alone (well, technically, there were still guards in the room) in the deafening quiet, looking up at the ornate chandelier radiating warm light above him before opening his mouth.

"James, I'm done here," Jack growls loudly to the thin man in the corner of the room, a few moments stilling before steps approach behind him. 

"Princess Angel seems quite upset, sir," James, a skinny teenager with loads of acne that only has his job here because Angel begged Jack with everything to let him get away from the peasant life to work as a royal server, says quietly as he begins taking up Jack's half-eaten plate and goblet into his arms. "Perhaps... perhaps you could call off the whole proposal ceremony. She doesn't _have_ to get married now. She should live her life the way she-"

"James, are you my friggin' adviser?" Jack seethes and keeps his fists clenched on the arms of the chair. 

James freezes and gulps audibly, "Uh- um, no, s-sir."

Jack stands up, the chair scooting across the wooden floor with a harsh screech, looking down at the cowering kid with a cold gaze and furrowed brows, teeth grinding.

_"Then don't tell me what to fucking do."_

He makes his way out of the dining hall and through the grand hall, ignoring the looks and mutters of nobles or guards or women in intricate dresses, staring deadly daggers at them before they get the hint and turn away, fearful. He makes his way up the great marble steps, stopping in his tracks to look longingly up the stairwell that breaks off to where Angel's room is located before turning away and walking up the opposing stairwell to his own room.

A small, frail man peeps out of one of the wide hallways, intersecting Jack's path, and flutters behind him.

"King Jack, sir! I thought I'd lost you earlier, you're so hard to keep up with," the white blond man chuckles awkwardly, reminding Jack of slime. "Princess Angel appears to be mildly upset right now-"

"I know Angel's pissed off, Blake! I'm the one who friggin' set her off!" Jack barks behind him, the thin man jumping in his place like a startled prey before recovering quickly and looking down at the scrolls in his arms.

"Well, yes, I assumed that, but it's not necessarily _you_ she's upset about, sir. It's the proposal ceremony. She seems to be... somewhat reluctant, but there's nothing that can be done at this point when all the plans are set out for tomorrow morning. I have Meredith on her dress and hair as always, and for you-"

"I've told you a million times, Blake. I can dress _my-fucking-self._ I'm not a goddamn toddler. And I know she doesn't want to do it, but what am I supposed to do, huh? I can't call it off so what do you suggest? Huh? You're my adviser, so _please,_ advise me."

Blake winces at Jack's harsh growls before shrugging meekly, "Just... I'll make sure she's not out and about the town with the common-folk before the proposal ceremony tomorrow. It's a tight schedule, sir."

Jack makes it to his room, Blake's cue that the conversation is over, nodding quietly to Wilhelm guarding his grand door and steps inside.

_"Don't tell my daughter what to do."_

He slams the door in Blake's pale face and locks it, rubbing his face tiredly as he begins to take off his cloak and belt. He takes his sword out of its scabbard while toeing off his boots. 

Being a king was undoubtedly tiring as all fuck. Sure, it was nice to have people doing everything for you, but Jack wasn't the kind of man that let people treat him like he was some little kid. He was born a commoner and worked hard to make it up through the ranks, not something every person could do as you were typically stuck with the class status you were born with for the rest of your life. So that kind of hard-working dedication he was given with his class status stayed with him forever. At the age of only twenty-eight, Jack had beheaded King Tassiter himself with his own sword, which he still carries today, at Tassiter's own throne. Jack wanted what was best for his little siren, who was six at the time, and couldn't bear the fact that she would grow up just to be someone else's serf, and when they found out about her powers, they would take his baby away and use her as a weapon. 

Jack sighs as he throws himself on his king-sized bed, covered in luxurious black and gold blankets and pillows that were softer than clouds. He brings his hands up to the side of his face, fingers pausing a moment before unclasping the metal clasps of his mask. He drops the advanced synthetic technology mask powered by Eridium magic onto his bedside table, beside his glasses and a glass of water.

He closes his eyes. Angel's eighteen now, and as a siren princess, the goddamn most respected person besides Jack around for as far as the eye could see and got every single thing she could ever want, she went down to the town daily to visit common-folk and peasants, playing with children and giving them fruits and bread out of kindness. She danced in her braid and dress with random merchants and other teenage girls, just... living amongst them, happier barefoot in the grass or getting her hands dirty than Jack has ever seen her getting pampered for a ball. He touches the rough scar tissue across his face, wondering why he worked so hard for her, to get her this royal life she deserves when she just resents it. Like she doesn't even care or wants to live this life.

But deep down, he knows he has no control over her happiness or what she wants or does or likes.

He just wants the best for her. He just wants to protect her.

* * *

Angel, ignoring Blake's warning about his dumb tight schedule, makes sure the guards outside her door aren't paying attention. She leaps out of bed to rip off her nightgown in the dim moonlight and hurriedly dresses in a dark blouse, a hooded cloak, and _honest to god trousers and boots._ She takes the rope out from under her bed, opens the huge windows to the outside world, and takes a deep breath. 

She ties the rope to a sturdy torch hook by the window and steps up the window bed, looking down at the big drop down to the golden rose bushes below that grow beside the cliff that drops off to the high ocean shore. Rumor has it that that's where guards drop off criminals or bandits to their death, or if you've really fucked up, Jack gladly pushes you off himself.

Those aren't rumors.

"Okay, Angel, you can do this. You've done it before," she whispers quietly into the night as she holds tight to the rope and climbs down the stone exterior of the castle. "Don't look down. Don't look down..."

She settles her boot into the soft soil near the rose bushes, letting go of the rope and tossing her hood up over her head while she makes sure all her tattoos are covered. Her icy blue eyes peer out to look at the stars before she darts out of the bushes, hiding behind walls and shrubs to pass patrolling guards around the castle. She makes it to her regular escape spot, the woods surrounding the castle, and she lights the mini lantern she brought with her, making sure she was far enough from the castle borders. 

Honestly, Angel... didn't really have a direct plan. She thought about running away, but where to? Jack would just send the entire army after her, searching the entire world far and wide for the black haired siren.

For now, she just wanted to get away from the castle, just to be free for one night before she would choose who she would live the rest of her life with forever as Queen Angel, once Jack retired.

It's not that she didn't appreciate the royal life; she really does appreciate everything Jack has done for her. But it's like a prison, just being stuck in the castle all the time except for balls or parades, not doing anything, being guarded constantly as Hyperion's siren princess. Every common girl wishes to grow up and become a princess, but Angel will never have the freedom a common girl has. So she just sits there all pretty during the day, and times between sunset to sunrise, or even midday on weekends, she sneaks out to live as a commoner, to play with the kids or help workers with their jobs.

Angel becomes lost in her thoughts, following a secluded trail to what she assumed was the docks while looking up between the shadows of leaves to connect constellations. She's always loved coming to the woods, where the air is fresh and smells of pine and slightly of the salt from the ocean nearby. She listens to the waves crashing while grasshoppers sing and owls hoot. She loves picking flowers and touching the soil, looking at searching squirrels and twittering birds, letting herself float off in the bliss of nature-

Before she's suddenly thrown to the ground by a flying force, lungs giving out and ribs crashing on the hard ground, letting out a hard groan as the lantern in her hand shatters beside her.

"Holy shit, oh my god! Oh my god, I just hit someone-"

"You just hit someone! You just hit someone, oh my god-"

There's shuffling and two frantic, worried voices above her as she quickly comes to. Angel rubs the back of her sore head as she opens her eyes to the two men hovering over.

"Miss, are you alright?! I swear, I didn't mean to hit you, I-I didn't even see you! You just came out of nowhere!" The taller, lankier man of the duo crouches down beside the princess, hovering his lantern about her, looking for any horrible injuries. "Are you okay? Miss?"

Angel sits up, groaning at the slight pain that shoots in her ribs and the dizziness in her head. She looks at the pretty man speaking to her, his voice concerned, but still soft like honey. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine... What the hell happened?"

This time the shorter and more beardy of the duo speaks up, dawned in silver armor rather than the taller's expensive and sleek attire, "My friend here wasn't watching where he was going and ran into you with his horse. Are you sure you're alright? C-Can you stand, miss?"

Angel groans again as she puts her wobbly legs under her, the two men holding onto her arms to help her stand. 

"I really am sorry. We're just late for something and we had to take this shortcut up from the docks and then before Vaughn could tell me I was about to hit something, I just kinda-"

"Hey, it's alright. I forgive you. You were in a rush," Angel puts her hand over the taller's hand. "I totally get it."

The auburn haired man smiles softly, "Thank you, miss. I'm Prince Rhys of Atlas, and this is Vaughn, my best friend slash personal guard. I-"

"Wait, Prince Rhys of Atlas? What are you doing here at Hyperion?" Angel questions. She's heard a few stories of Prince Rhys from the nobles of Hyperion, specifically how he was the only male siren to exist (she tries to look his chest and arms for blue ink) in addition to his Eridium fused arm and eye, though nobody quite knows the story behind that part. She catches the glowing purple lines across his exposed right hand and in the iris of his left eye, seemingly pulsing and flowing like little violet rivers.

"So you've heard of me?" Rhys tosses her a shit-eating prince grin, his demeanor fixing from clumsy to cocky, which Angel has to resist rolling her eyes at. "Well, Princess Angel is looking for someone to take her hand in marriage, and I'd be dumb if I didn't even try, right? The proposal ceremony is tomorrow, though we were supposed to arrive yesterday. My ship was having a tough time crossing troubled waters... you know how it is."

Angel nods her head slowly and smiles, "Sure... um, I should be going back now... and you probably should be going to Helios Castle right now. Don't want to keep Princess Angel or King Jack waiting."

Rhys straightens his back a moment and seems to completely remember why he's here in the first place.

"Shit, you're right! Vaughn, get back on your horse, we gotta go!" Rhys takes a moment to take Angel's nimble hand and kisses her knuckles, a symbol of gratitude. "Thank you. Bless you, and have a good night!"

With that Rhys leaps on his white horse and sets off on the trail with Vaughn and his own dark brown horse.

"Goodbye, Prince Rhys! Goodbye, Vaughn! Good luck at the ceremony!" Angel calls out, and Vaughn tosses her a shy smile and wave behind him.

"Did she look familiar to you?" Vaughn says as he keeps up with Rhys' horse, strands of his hair flying out of his bun and into the wind.

Rhys looks over at his counterpart, his eyebrow raising as the wind threads fingers through his own sleek auburn curls, "I don't think so... Maybe we'll see her again when we check out Hyperion later."

Vaughn can't shake the feeling as Rhys shrugs it off, "Maybe... I just feel like I've seen her somewhere..."

"You're just tired, bro. It's been a long trip. Get some sleep when we get a real bedroom for the first time in a goddamn millennium," Rhys says as they make it to the front castle gate, stating his name, where he's from, and why he's here before the guards let him into the castle where Angel was currently rushing up the rope back into her own bedroom. "We have a long week ahead of us, bro."

Vaughn _swears_ he saw something move by one of the castle windows, but when he turns to look, the windows are shut and still. He narrows his eyes warily and looks around the castle courtyard, hand readily on the sword at his side as he walks next to the taller man. They stride after a Helios escort to the entrance of the castle, guided to their bedrooms for the upcoming week.

"Yeah."


	2. II. the last dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey wassup i know i suck at updating writing's a damn hassle
> 
> but all the love yall give me seriously makes me so happy <3 makes me feel over the moon and keeps me writing :')
> 
> anyway enough yap yap, it's party time!

If there was one thing Rhys loved, it would be balls.

Er- not that way- wait- well, yeah-

Nevermind.

Anyway, the young, charming prince has more money than he could ever possibly need, so, of course, what else to spend it on than the swankiest, most fancy fabrics to wear to the weekly parties he throws, delightfully tipsy on sparkly champagne while dancing and laughing with other beautiful young women.

Despite how many Atlasan people rolled their eyes at Rhys' occasional childish, fun-loving behavior (sometimes they teased him by calling him Prince Antony), they really couldn't ask for a better prince to represent them. He may seem like some young, pretty, stuck up rich boy who just wastes all his parents’ money, but he really does have an intelligent brain and a caring heart for his people. A combination like that plus ambitions up to the stars brings many promises Rhys tends to keep until he's king, planning to make sure Atlas flourishes with more profitable, safe Eridium mines and technology advancements (discovered and designed by Rhys himself), as well as balancing the social structure by granting lower classes all the same rights the higher classes have. He's set out his entire future, per say.

That is, until one day his mother came rushing to him with a letter from Hyperion, a sleek black envelope with a gold wax seal imprinted with an intricate Hyperion sigil. Inside, the scroll explains Princess Angel's upcoming proposal ceremony, calling young royals and noblemen all around to come offer their hand in marriage to the newly blossomed eighteen year old. It explains the week all in detail, that the ceremony will begin with a huge ball and among the following days Angel will be able to spend time with each of the hopeful lovers. At the end of the week, Angel will make a choice and the couple will be arranged to be wed, but must be approved by King Jack first, of course.

Rhys was unsure at first, pestered by his mother that _he's going to be twenty-seven soon and if he doesn't find a girl now he never will_. It really put a punch to Rhys' ego and heart, but Rhys never quite really focused on girls in... that way. 

So yeah, he was gay.

Took him a while to admit that to himself. Only one other person knew, and that was his best friend since childhood, Vaughn. Despite Rhys' fears, Vaughn was totally okay with it, supporting Rhys through everything at every moment. He was really the best straight brother a gay guy could ask for.

So, yes, he loved balls. Both parties and the literal form. Heh.

But his dilemma continued- how could he tell his parents that?! Rhys is an only child and his parents nagged him every day that he's _got_ to find a girl to marry already. Not only that, but the town would surely be dismayed if they found our their dear little charming Prince Rhys, whom every girl from kingdoms around fawned over, liked dick.

He only agreed to go because one, his parents kind of forced him to, and two, his parents agreed that he would be allowed to travel all the way to Hyperion by himself with Vaughn at his side _at all times_ (Rhys rolled his eyes but went with it). And hey, a party's a party, right?

So now he stands at the top of the white and gold flecked marble staircase that leads down to the grand Helios ballroom. The polished honeycomb flooring reflects the warm lights of glittering chandeliers way above and lanterns on shiny columns. Grand windows draped with, yet again, gold curtains look out onto lush fields and the chopping waves of the ocean, watching the sunset and the moon rise. The ballroom was large and the unique honeycomb-focused architecture was stunning, but the most beautiful part was the ceiling, depicting a painting of the space sky full of stars and planets, specifically Saturn and its moon, Hyperion.

There’s a low whistle next to him, "That is one beautiful painting."

Rhys glances over to Vaughn for a second before looking back up, "Yeah. This entire ballroom is just- just amazing. A lot different than our ballroom, but Hyperion's different I guess."

"There's so much gold I think I might go blind."

Rhys chuckles, "Well if you got the money, why not flaunt it?”

Vaughn chuckles with him and they begin walking down the steps to the party below as Rhys adjusts the true amber buttons on his black vest and fixes the collar of his dark undershirt.

"My crown look okay, brother?"

Vaughn looks up at the auburn haired man, craning his head a bit to look at the amber-jeweled crown before giving a thumbs up.

"Looks good, bro. There's a little curl sticking out the front, but it doesn't look too shabby."

Rhys rolls his eyes and scoffs, "My hair didn't exactly want to cooperate with my gel today. Don't talk about it."

"I said it looks good!"

"Ah- don't!"

Vaughn snickers behind him as they reach the floor as Rhys' slick boots click on the floor, sending a pleasant shiver down his back.

"Prince Rhys Somerset of Atlas! A pleasure to meet you, at last, your majesty," a scrawny, white-blond haired man comes out of nowhere and bows in front of Rhys. "I'm Jeffrey Blake, King Jack's adviser. Princess Angel and King Jack will be out any moment now, but please, drink all the champagne and dance to your heart's desire!"

Rhys puts on his prince smile, soft and polite, "Thank you, Sir Blake. Oh, this is my friend and guest of the night, Vaughn O'Brien."

Blake bows to the shorter, socially awkward man, "A pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. O'Brien. Have a wonderful night, you two!"

Before they could even process what was happening, Blake was already scampering away to greet another very rich and snobby duo behind them. 

"Guy seems like a nutjob if you ask me," Rhys leans over and whispers, cracking a snort out of the bearded man.

"Whatever, man. I'm getting some of those fancy lemon meringue desserts. You go do what you do best and make some friends or something," Vaughn pats Rhys on the back and makes his way to the food table in the back, Vaughn's place of comfort.

Rhys turns around and picks up his first glass of champagne off a waiter's plate with nimble fingers, taking a sip and humming as the warm bubbles slide down his throat. With liquid fun in his hand, he's off to join a random group of other rich pricks, greeting them and laughing away.

* * *

Jack sits on the side balcony overlooking the ballroom, observing people as he absentmindedly traces the rim of his champagne glass with the tip of his forefinger.

Jack wasn't looking forward to this whole week. He knows Angel isn't looking forward to it either, but it's too late to just tell all these haughty fucks to go home.

He looks around the room again, watching people walk in and laugh and talk and just being _annoying_. It all looks so bland, nothing exciting him and making him even less eager to stand up and make his dumb speech.

But out of the blue, his eyes seem to catch on a certain duo walking down the stairwell, or rather one part of the duo. A long, long legged lithe and tall man with a gorgeous face and curled hair speaks to his little buddy as a single reluctant curl falls on his forehead, making him look that much more _delectable_. His crown sits delicately on his pretty head while his brown—and purple?—eyes glitter in the lights. Jack notices his heeled boots extenuating his _god so fucking long_ legs.

He almost didn't even realize when Blake walked up to him to greet him, distracted by an absolutely gorgeous smile planting across the prince's face with warm and alluring eyes. His complexion was youthful and alive, something Jack _craved_.

God, Jack couldn't stop staring. Like a moth to the light, he just seemed to look and shine brighter than everyone else in the room. 

Jack scans over his body again, noticing the little pulsing purple lines flowing down his right arm and the blue tattoos running over his very exposed chest above the deep V of his undershirt and vest. Jack knew he was obviously just trying to show them off, but _damn..._

So this was the famous Prince Rhys he's been hearing about. First male siren in existence, but also claiming a mysterious Eridium infused arm and eye nobody could figure out.

Nobody told him how drop-dead ravishing the kid was.

His bearded buddy leaves him for the food table and Rhys takes a glass of champagne before jumping in head first to socialize with others.

Watching him socialize with other rich folks was like a dream. He was smooth, collected, and still fucking gorgeous. He was just like a regular, snobby pretty prince, but for some reason, Jack was just compelled to him like a magnet.

Being somewhat close, Jack can hear when Rhys leans back to let out a loud cackle at a dumb joke, his voice warm and surprisingly deep, dripping like honey. 

With that, Jack snaps up, raising his glass and spoon and clanking them together wildly. The room hushes slowly, everyone turning to look at the man of absolute power. Jack's eyes are still trained to the auburn-haired man who now stands and stares in awe with stars shining in his contrasting eyes.

"Welcome, ladies and kiddos!" Jack's boisterous voice echoes around the quiet room. Damn, he loved the sound of his own voice. "As you all know, I've invited y'all here for the proposal ceremony of my beautiful daughter, Princess Angel Lawrence." There's a scattered applause at that and Jack watches Rhys put his glass down nearby to clap. "Yeah, yeah, she's a doll, she's perfect, she's amazing, yadda yadda, shit y'all already know. Out of all the princes and nobles in this room, only one of you will have the honor of taking my daughter's hand in marriage. To my approval, of course. Break my daughter's heart, I break your neck and bones and push your broken carcass into the goddamn ocean like a rag doll. So this is a toast to that one lucky fella who will have the pleasure of carrying on the royal family name who I won't have to throw into the sea to rot at the bottom until you decay into nothing. To Hyperion!"

There's a silent pause before people out of unison raise their glasses and shout, "To Hyperion?" They knock their heads back and drink their fizzy drinks, the regular chatter starting up again.

"Does King Jack know you or somethin'?" 

Rhys is torn from where he's admiring King Jack's appearance and demeanor, captivated and enchanted. 

"...I’m sorry, pardon?"

The random girl with the strange accent he's been talking with nods up to the balcony where Jack had already disappeared, "He was lookin' at you like a damn hawk. Couldn't keep his eyes off you."

Rhys can feel himself blushing before he shakes his head and snorts, "No, no, no. This is the first time I've ever even seen him."

The girl's eyes widen and her eyebrows raise, "Really? You sure he isn't into _you_ then?"

Rhys waves his hand, the pink dusting his cheeks turning redder, "No, he didn't even see me at all."

The curly blonde-haired girl grins cheekily and points behind him, "Say that to him when he comes over here to talk to you, then."

"What?" Rhys barely has time to spit out before the girl walks away smirking and suddenly he feels a presence next to him.

"Prince Rhys Somerset of Atlas, right? I've heard _a lot_ about you."

Rhys jumps out of his own skin at the low, gravely voice that rumbles into his ear and he turns to face the man who held more power in a skin cell than his entire kingdom. He was too handsome for words, with his mismatched eyes, his chiseled jawline, his perfect warm smile, his golden crown nesting nicely in his coiffed chestnut and grey hair, and his broad shoulders under his layers. Power and dominance practically oozed from his aura, melting Rhys into a puddle of awe and want.

Dear god.

"K-King Jack, sir!" Rhys blurts out and does an awkward bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Y-You have a beautiful castle, by the way."

God, did he have to stutter now?!

Jack grins and bows back, making Rhys' heart flutter as _King Jack_ was bowing in front of _him_. "Thanks. Built it myself. Well, nah, King Jack doesn't do manual labor," the older man cackles and Rhys just awkwardly chuckles. "Designed it myself, I should say."

"You designed all this?"

"Sure did, pumpkin," Jack smiles warmly. "Anyway...First siren male in the whole land? And you got a kick ass magic arm and eye? _And_ you got a pretty face? How's one get so lucky?"

Rhys rolls his eyes and chuckles as he internally explodes over the fact Jack called him _pretty_. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm lucky. I don't really talk about the arm and eye very much," Rhys leans in to whisper, "I like to keep it _mysterious._ "

Jack raises a brow, his voice deep and velvety, "Ooh, mysterious I _like_ , baby."

Rhys can feel his blush all over his shoulders and neck and face, knowing no doubt he looks like a tomato right now. His prince composure completely shattered under Jack's words.

"You're quite the charming tease, aren't you, King Jack?" Rhys rubs his hand on the back of his neck, a bad habit he always does when he feels nervous or flustered.

"Oh, you know I am, Rhysie," Jack grins to show off his perfect teeth while his blue and green eyes glitter in the light. He winks his green eye at Rhys, causing the younger's breath to catch. "I'll see ya around, pumpkin."

Before Jack leaves, he has the _audacity_ to take Rhys' Eridium infused hand in his own to kiss the knuckles ever so softly, the skin glowing more purple and pulsing much brighter under his lips. Rhys almost can't take it anymore, barely holding in the whine that almost escapes him from how overwhelmed he is. 

Oh my god. Oh my god?

Jack looks back up and smirks when he sees how dazed and flushed Rhys looks, just from a kiss on the knuckles.

Then he's finally off like a shadow in the night with Blake dragging him away, much to his annoyance, probably to prepare for Angel's entrance.

"Brooo, wha’ th' hell did I miss...”

Rhys watches Jack’s back muscles move under his tailcoat as he walks away, “I-I dunno…”

"King Jack jus’ kissed your hand, bro! Holy shit! What did he shay?!" Vaughn looks up from where he's stuffing lemon meringues in his mouth, crumbs falling on his bowtie and vest.

Rhys brushes the crumbs off his friend’s chest, eyes wide and unfocused, "I- He c-called me pretty."

Vaughn stares up with wide grey eyes, "He tol’ you that?!" Rhys nods shamefully as Vaughn finally swallows the dessert in his mouth. "Holy shit, who knew the guy was into dudes."

"He's not into dudes! I-I mean, I don't know, but he has a daughter, for Christ's sake!"

"So? There's tons of stories of guys with kids who end up switching teams after or sometimes even _during_ their marriage-"

"Oh, and where the hell have you heard those stories from?!"

"I don't know! Just around I guess-"

Rhys' pout and retort is cut off by the second clinking of a raised glass and spoon, coming from the direction of the stairwell where Jack is at the top in a seemingly much better mood.

"Ladies and kiddos, I present to you," Jack looks off behind him longingly, outstretching his arm, expression softening, "my beautiful, grown up daughter, Princess Angel Lawrence."

Before Angel's even come out, there's an ocean of applause. A petite, young black-haired girl walks up to the railing, looking at the sea of people with a somewhat nervous but polite smile and wave. She's dressed up in the puffiest ball gown ever with the white and gold details shimmering in the light as her exposed blue tattoes swirl across her chest and arm.

Rhys freezes, looking at the girl closer as Vaughn practically punches his chest with the force of the horse that hit Angel.

"That's the girl from last night! I told you I knew her from somewhere! I told you! What did I say, I told you!”

Rhys can barely function or process what Vaughn is exclaiming about because after getting over how beautiful Angel looks, he has to take in the fact that Jack is still eyeing Rhys like a piece of candy when his daughter is _right there._

Jack tosses him another wink (Rhys' heart explodes all over again) before taking Angel's hand to walk her gracefully down the steps. The two look at each other with matching sympathetic expressions.

Jack’s little angel.

The first dance starts, typically titled The Last Dance, symbolizing the last dance a father and daughter will have before she's wed and grown up. Jack swings Angel around in circles slowly as Angel twirls with him.

"You know this is gonna suck for me right? Sending my little girl off to get married and one day she'll forget all about me?"

Angel chuckles with Jack, her laugh light and gleeful, but her eyebrows stay creased with worry and unease.

"Hey, what's wrong, baby girl? I should be the sad one here," Jack says as he pulls her in from the spin.

Angel chuckles mellowly and looks down, "I-I don't know. It's just- I want to find my true love. I don't want to be arranged to marry some rich boy because the rules say I have to."

Jack leans in, "Hey, don't be like that. I heard that prince from Atlas is pretty charming."

Angel grins, "Rhys? I hear he's pretty dorky and clumsy under that whole prince facade."

Out of the corner of his eye he catches Rhys' gaze and beams at him, Rhys blushing and waving with a lopsided smirk, before going back to twirl Angel again.

Jack smiles knowingly, "He must be."

After The Last Dance, Jack begrudgingly gives his little girl up to the rest of the people, leaving the ballroom to ditch the champagne for some much needed whiskey.

Rhys takes his opportunity and walks up to Angel, bowing and outstretching his hand.

"May I have this dance?"

Angel smirks and takes his hand, pulling him in to wrap her left arm around him and holding his hand out with her right one.

Rhys looks down at the shorter girl and smiles, "I was hoping you'd say that."

Angel laughs with an endearing snort, "You're not mad I didn't tell you who I was in the forest?"

Rhys shakes his head, "Why would I be mad? Just makes it easier so I don't have to introduce myself a second time." Angel laughs again, enjoying Rhys' playful jokes. "You know, I have a feeling that we're going to be really close friends."

Angel looks up, "Oh, really?"

Rhys shrugs, "Yeah, so that's why I should tell you I like guys and I'm only here because my mother forced me to."

Angel just snorts and grins as the taller man twirls her around, "Then I should tell you that I like girls and I'm only here because my father forced me to, too."

Rhys knocks his head back to let out a deep laugh, "Same boat, huh?"

Angel can't help but let out a bunch of giggles, "Same boat."

Rhys takes a moment to dip her before pulling her back up again, surprisingly graceful when he needs to be.

"So what do you wanna do when you're queen?" 

Angel's smile fades and she rolls her eyes, "Ugh, I don't think I ever want to be queen."

"What? Why not? You can do anything you want, you get anything you want, and everyone loves you. Sounds like a pretty damn good life to me."

"Believe it or not, being royalty is more restricting than anything else. I have to be perfect all the time, no matter what. Sometimes I wish I could just... be a normal person."

Rhys raises a brow, "Like what?"

"Like, y'know, just one of the common people. Ooh, wait, you know what would be cool? A vault hunter out on the Pandoran wastelands and Elpisan caves, to the Edens and to Promethea and Tantalus... just exploring and doing whatever I want! Can you imagine that kind of _freedom?_ I could open the Vault of the Warrior!"

Rhys looks down at her, a small smile on his face, admiring the excited sparkles in her eyes, "So you wanna be a vault hunter when you're queen?"

"Wouldn't hate it," Angel shrugs. "What do you wanna do?"

Rhys stands straighter, "Well, I have lots of plans for Atlas. Being next to the Pandoran wastelands, it'll be easy to add _lots_ more Eridium mines. It'll be costly, but so worth it for the technology and ideas I have in mind. I want all my people to have equal rights, too."

Angel raises a brow, impressed, "Quite the ambitious company man aren't you?"

Rhys preens, "Trust me, I know."

The rest of the night was a haze of dancing and laughing and raining champagne. Vaughn even loosened up a bit to do his traditional Irish dance with Rhys, something they only did when they were very happy and very drunk. For Rhys, the party was definitely a success.

Until he woke up the next morning with a hangover splitting his head open.

He groans as he pops an aspirin in his mouth and gulps an entire glass of water down his dry throat before stepping in the pristine and overly expensive shower, admiring the huge array of different soaps and washes, eager to try all of them.

When he stepped out of the shower with only a towel around his waist, now smelling of citrus and pomegranate, there was a heavy and impatient knocking at his door.

"Give me a minute, I'll be right there!"

The knocking continued.

"Geez, I said I'll be there in a _damn minute!_ "

Before he could even get dressed, the door swings open and Rhys yelps as he pulls his towel tighter. Jack peers around the door frame with knitted brows and absolute fury glossing over his mismatched eyes. His shoulders were stiff and his fists were clenched with rage.

Rhys can't help but yell, "What the _fuck_ , Jack, you can't just barge in like that!"

But before Rhys can realize that he just yelled at the most powerful and _deadly_ man this side of the planet, also noting his lack of manners and formality, Jack holds up a little paper scrawled with a delicate cursive 'Ask Rhys. -Angel' and barks.

_**"Where the hell is Angel?"** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lesbian angel ftw :')


	3. III. whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg i haven't updated in months and i feel so horrible ;-;
> 
> i could spit out excuses talking about school and seasonal depression and life in general, but idc i wrote a new chapter and that's all i care about!!
> 
> ofc not my fav chapter or anything, but it's to get me back into the grind of this fic again that i actually love with all my heart. 
> 
> thank you for all the love and support since i've been gone. you guys truly mean the world to me and make me feel all fuzzy fjdkaljkslj
> 
> anyway time for whiskey

“What the hell do you mean?”

Jack gives Rhys an exasperated look and shoves the paper in his face harder.

“It says _‘Ask Rhys’_?! Shouldn’t you friggin’ know, dumbass!?” Jack barks again, cornering Rhys against the expensive, ornate mahogany dresser behind him.

Rhys is hyper-aware of the fact he’s still in _just a towel_. Jack seems to notice this matter for the first time and his eyebrows unknit as his eyes graze over Rhys’ chest and stomach, admiring the swirls of soft blue on creamy skin and the pulsating violet veins of Rhys right arm glowing brighter as his heart rate sped up. He felt like a specimen under a microscope with Jack’s stare on him.

“J-Just give me a minute to get dressed, okay?” Rhys waves his hand to shove Jack back. “God, did anyone ever teach you manners?”

“Manners are overrated, cupcake. Now, _where’s my Angel_?!”

Rhys sighs heavily, pulling out a simple pair of underwear, a pair of trousers, and an undershirt from the dresser behind him. His cheeks bloom with rosy pink as he feels Jack’s stare from behind him. He goes behind the wall divider, tossing his towel over the top of it.

“How should I know, Jack? She never told me anything about going anywhere,” Rhys voices to Jack as he pulls on his socks and garters along with his underwear and trousers, shuffling as he hears Jack pacing around the room. He can feel Jack’s brain basically sending off stress signals throughout the entire castle.

Jack suddenly appears from behind the divider with his face so close to Rhys’ that he can basically feel his body heat. Rhys yelps and jumps back, pouting at Jack’s lacking understanding of privacy and personal space.

Like what if he was still naked!?

 _God_ , he really shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

“Did she tell you anything? Anything at all? Any hints or clues?” Jack looks and sounds almost...desperate. “What did you guys talk about last night?”

Rhys pulls on his plain undershirt, pushing past Jack to walk back to his dresser to find a pair of suspenders, much to Jack’s temporary face of disbelief and irritation.

“I mean...we talked about what she wanted to do when she was older. She said she wanted to be a vault hunter or something. Travel to the Pandoran wastelands and Elpisian caves and across the world and stuff-”

Jack whirls him around, grasping him by his Eridium hand.

“You mean my little girl ran off to _god knows where_ and nobody knows where she is!?” Jack’s fury returns and his eyes of stone stare daggers into Rhys’ own bleak and shy eyes.

“Er… maybe?”

Jack takes in a deep breath through his nose and lets go of his rigid grasp on Rhys’ wrist. The older man turns around to stand with his hands on his hips and his eyes closed. He doesn’t say anything, and Rhys understands that he was contemplating something. The prince rubs his aching wrist where Jack kept his stiff clutch.

“Jack, she’s probably fine. She’s an independent woman now, she can do what she wants-”

“I’m so fucking _sick_ and _tired_ of people telling me how to raise _my fucking daughter_!” Jack shouts with fire burning in his pupils. The veins of his forearms stretch his caramel skin from his balled clench. “Is she _your_ fucking daughter, Rhys? _Huh_?”

Rhys would’ve probably stood down from the deadly King Jack’s infamous rage, but he rolls his eyes at his little tantrum, not thinking before acting. “Well, no, she’s not my daughter, but...I know her-”

“You’ve only known her for _one goddamn day_!”

“Yeah, I’ve known her for one day and I understand her and listen to her more than you probably ever have!” Rhys points an accusatory finger at Jack now, his voice raised and eyebrows furrowed.

Jack growls and punches Rhys in his face with a burst of rage, causing him to reel back against the mahogany dresser. Several knick knacks upon the wooden chifferobe clatter and fall. 

“What the _fuck_ , Jack?!” Rhys shouts and cups his jaw, which is now shooting with pain. He already knows that that’s gonna leave a gnarly bruise on his face (so much for looking his best this week) and he’s about to snarl something to the older man, but he looks to Jack in front of him. His eyes were still furious, but they glittered with something else...

The strange thing was that he _knows_ Jack could just kill him right here, right now if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He looked slowly at the sheathed sword at Jack’s side and swallowed.

He knew he could have punched Rhys harder if he wanted to, but he didn’t.

For a moment, Rhys takes a step in Jack’s boots and looks at the situation, realizing the course of emotion that any father would punch a guy over if they heard what Rhys had said.

Granted, Rhys thinks the punch was a little too far because the irony taste of blood now dripped on his taste buds from the inside of his mouth, but still. 

Rhys sighs and slowly creeps over to where Jack has his lips tight in a line, his stare down on the floor, “Look, I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t know exactly where she could be, but she did tell me about how she wanted adventure and freedom and travel. She felt like she was imprisoned by this royal life and she wanted to experience the world without being constricted by that.”

Jack is still silent, and Rhys isn’t sure if he should continue. Thankfully, Jack speaks up, but only a dark growl.

“We need to find her, and _you_ are coming with me.”

* * *

Rhys rushes out of his room to keep up with Jack’s pace. Jack’s strides were wide and imperious, but Rhys had longer legs. Rhys clambers as he adjusts his vest, “Wh-what are you gonna do?”

Jack turns to him, his jaw clenched and his gaze stone cold, sending shivers down Rhys’ back. “ _We_ are going to find my Angel. Doesn’t matter if she’s on her way to another goddamn universe right now, _we’re getting her back._ ”

“Um, okay, we’ve established that, but _how?_ ” Rhys gesticulates dramatically. This is not what he signed up for. Well, not what his mother signed him up for.

Jack stops dead in his tracks, causing Rhys to have to backtrack a bit in his own steps to face him. Rhys expects Jack to say something snarky or sarcastic, but he doesn’t say anything. He just takes a breath in before his thundering roar calls attention to the entire castle, prompting everything and everyone remaining frozen.

**_“BLAKE!”_ **

There’s a moment where Rhys just looks around to watch the residents of the castle continue on with their activities, as if this was just normal around here.

“Jack, what the-”

“ _King Jack, sir!_ What seems to be the issue?” A spindly, scrawny man runs up the grand staircase and throws all his attention to Jack and Jack only, pretending like Rhys wasn’t even there. Rhys notices it was the greasy man that greeted Vaughn and him at the opening ball and rolls his eyes.

“Blake, have you seen Angel this morning?” Jack peers down at the bony, pale man, his question dripping with scorn instead of curiosity. 

Blake’s expression transitions through several different phases before opening his mouth, “Well- er- no, sir. I suppose that’s quite strange-”

“She’s _fucking missing_ , Blake! Are you seriously _that friggin’ dense_!” Jack erupts on the cowering man. He doesn’t seem to notice or even care that everyone in the Grand Hall was now staring at the commotion. Their eyes glance to Rhys off to the side of the clamor and he awkwardly waves to the nobles gawking with confusion.

Blake’s eyes widen into dinner plates, “M-m-missing, sir? _Nonono_ , that’s not possible! She-”

Jack shoves the piece of paper with Angel’s handwriting to the bleak man, pushing at his chest with enough force to thrust him back a bit. Blake takes the paper and reads the quick note, before raising his cold eyes to look at Rhys himself. 

“Do you have anything to do with this, Prince Rhys?” Blake stares at him with an accusing eye.

“ _What?_ No! I have nothing to do with this! I don’t even know why I’m tied up into all of this!” Rhys raises his hands up as he defends himself, “I’ve been here for one day!” 

“Angel told Rhys last night that she wanted to leave Hyperion. She hinted at going to the Pandoran wastelands or something. He’s our only clue to where she could be,” Jack crosses his arms.

Blake brings up a shaking, brittle hand to rub his eyes. There were beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. 

“A-are you sure? Why would she tell Prince Rhys of all people?” Blake glances over to the prince in question, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Rhys pouts at the dislikable, slimy man in front of him.

Jack takes a moment to pause and think about the question asked, his eyes lowering for a second.

“Because apparently she trusts him more than me after only one day of knowing him.”

Rhys wanted to say something, like how that wasn’t true, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Jack’s eyes connected with his own, looking empty and almost… sad.

Blake takes out a handkerchief and dabs his sweating forehead as he gives Angel’s note back to Jack, “Um, alright... W-what do you think we should do?”

Jack rolls his eyes and groans, “It’s ridiculous how little you advise me as my friggin’ advisor, Blake. It should be obvious; I’m leaving Hyperion to go look for her.”

Blake nearly jumps and scampers on the spot at that.

“K-King Jack, sir! You can’t do that! Who’s going to watch Helios while you’re gone?” Blake’s hands go wild in the air, “You can just send a search team out for her!”

“This isn’t something I can just send a search team out for, Blake. This is my _siren princess daughter_. Plus, Rhys needs to come with me.”

“Y’know, I don’t have to-”

“ _You’re coming with me,_ ” Jack turns to the prince and glares coldly at him, silently telling him that there was no possible way out of this.

Jack begins walking down the grand staircase with Rhys at his side and Blake flitting behind them.

Jack clenches his fists, “I’m gonna need a personal team for this one, Blake. I need you to make a list of people you know I trust and make sure they’re here at Helios Castle by yesterday. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

“B-But King Jack, sir!”

“ ** _What did I say!?_** ” Jack freezes in his steps to turn and yell in the frail man’s face.

“O-On it, sir!”

With that, Blake scampers off to another section of the castle, nobles around the Grand Hall now whispering and spreading rumors by the second.

Rhys follows Jack, who is walking in the opposite direction of Blake, and dares to open his mouth, “Jack? What do you mean ‘personal team’?”

“Like I said to Blake, this ain’t no mission for a random search team, pumpkin. My siren princess daughter, probably the most powerful girl-- woman in this land, is missing. I need a team of people I can trust to come with me to find her, wherever the hell she is.”

“Are you saying you trust me?” Rhys raises a brow and bites his lip playfully.

Jack gives him a flat stare and sighs, “God, this is gonna be the longest journey of my life.”

* * *

With the news of Angel passing around through Helios Castle and then throughout the town of Hyperion, it was declared that the proposal ceremony was being put on hold. Blake established that all invitees of the ceremony would stay as long as they like at Helios Castle until things returned back on track and Angel was found. Many were irritated about the ceremony being cut short, but they couldn’t complain about the free vacation to one of the most lavish castles around. So they didn’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Rhys and Jack had asked around the entire kingdom for any clues on Angel’s whereabouts. Of course, nobody knew a thing.

Her room was turned upside down for anything at all that would indicate at least _something_. Her wardrobe was checked, under her bed, in her dresser, even under some of the loose floorboards in the corner.

Again, _nothing._

After the hopeless search, Jack had grown dreary. He and Rhys settled in a comfy yet elegant lounging room with a large window overlooking the plateau that dropped to the choppy ocean. The room was somewhat small, but it was the vast view that left it feeling ginormous. The sun was setting in the distance, and with the golden hour, it brought bright golden shining of sunlight to gleam into the room. Rhys could see little particles of dust floating in the light. 

When Rhys had followed Jack into the room, the king closed the set of wooden doors behind them, granting them privacy from the rest of the bustles and business of Helios Castle.

Rhys realized how quiet it was in the room and he grew uncomfortably aware that he was alone with King Jack. 

He didn’t like that.

Jack stalks to the back of the room to grab a large bottle of whiskey upon an alcohol rack before popping it open to glug a painful amount down his throat. The bitter oaky taste slaps him immediately, but Jack needed something to numb him right now.

“Sit down with me, pumpkin,” Jack waves the young prince over from where he’s still standing quietly at the entrance of the room, like he was too scared to even move. Jack plops down on an elaborate velvet couch in front of the window, his bleary eyes slowly grazing over the flaming oranges and yellows beside the setting sun on the horizon.

Rhys feels like his body is reacting several moments slower than his mind. Time seems to feel altered here, if that made any sense, and the atmosphere was… stilled.

He gently makes his way over to the king, making sure to sit a significant distance away from him on the couch. Jack had already kicked his feet up on the ornate coffee table in front of them, despite the fact that it probably cost more than Rhys’ entire existence. He slouched against the back of the couch, holding the bottle of whiskey in his lap, his eyes searching the distance.

The older man sat uncharacteristically quiet, and Rhys couldn’t find a sliver of expressive emotion on his face. He kind of just looked… tired. _Should he say something? What the hell was going on through this guy’s head?_

Rhys got distracted, however, and his eyes focused on Jack’s sunkissed skin in the sunlight and the way the whiskey gleamed in its bottle. Rhys took the moment to observe Jack’s neutral face; though there was a mask covering it, he could see the age in slight wrinkles and jaded eye bags. His contrasting eyes were even brighter in the light, though they were empty. His face was truly all angles, and Rhys admired it. Jack sitting so still, the scene reminded him slightly of a beautiful Greek statue.

“Well, draw a picture, princess. It’ll last longer.”

Rhys is torn from his intrusive thoughts and looks away from the older man, cheeks blooming with a deep blush again.

“S-Sorry. Just kinda got...lost in my thoughts there, I guess,” Rhys mumbles with a nervous smile, “heh.”

Jack chuckles deeply, “A lot of people get lost in their thoughts when they look at me, babe.”

 _Babe._ That’s a new one. And, no, it did not cause the butterflies in Rhys’ stomach to flutter again. _It didn’t._

Rhys didn’t respond to his comment. Not that because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know even how to respond without embarrassing himself. In front of King Jack of Hyperion. 

_God._

Jack takes another chug of his whiskey, popping the lip of the bottle off his mouth with a groan, before offering the bottle to Rhys. Normally, Rhys would reject the offer of whiskey. He’s more of a champagne and wine kind of guy if anything, and Rhys never liked the taste of whiskey. It made him feel more miserable and drained than the fun fizzles wine gave him.

But it’s been a long two days. He still thinks he’s in a dream or something.

So he takes the bottle from Jack’s grasp, noticing how large Jack’s hand was in comparison to his nimble one in the trade off, and takes a long chug of the aged whiskey while he closes his eyes. His face involuntary grimaces at the lasting oaky aftertaste.

Jack snorts slightly at that, “Don’t like whiskey, pumpkin?”

Rhys shakes his head with a wry expression and groans as he gives the bottle back to Jack.

“Yeah, wouldn’t peg a doll like you as a whiskey kinda guy, anyway. You’re too delicate for whiskey, I think.”

Rhys turns to him, face still contorted from the disgusting taste, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’, babe,” Jack snickers in response. There’s a sigh and a pause before Jack speaks again. “Say, pumpkin, I just…wanted to say I shouldn’t have punched you earlier in your room today. I was delusional and angry and upset and-”

Jack trails off with a sigh. He was never good at this apologizing thing.

But Rhys sat dumbfounded. He didn’t expect Jack to mention the punching thing earlier, let alone give a half-ass apology.

“It’s, uh, it’s okay, Jack. It was a dick move, yeah, but it’s fine now.”

“But I ruined your pretty face though. It’s got a nasty bruise right there and it’s all my fault,” Jack whines dramatically.

The fact that _that_ was why Jack was feeling a sliver of guilt caused Rhys to roll his eyes. Of course it wasn’t because Jack was just a good guy.

And then Rhys froze. He called him pretty. _Again._

“I, uh… I-It’s fine, Jack, really. I-It’ll go away in a few days,” Rhys’ cheeks become tomatoes and he feels warm tingles throughout his body.

“I hope so. Otherwise, I’ll be the reason we can’t have nice things like you anymore,” Jack chuckles. “Anyway, you ever use your siren powers before?”

Rhys is taken aback by the quick and sudden change in topic. “Well, uh… Sometimes they flare up when I get really upset or mad, but other than that, I’ve only used it once for real attack and defense,” Rhys shrugs. “The worst it’s ever been was when…”

Jack waits quietly from his spot on the couch. Rhys half expected him to snap in his face and tell him he doesn’t have all day, but he simply watches Rhys steadily.

“N-Nevermind. Forget I said anything,” Rhys shuts down completely.

He looks down at the flowing purple rivers in his arms. He wasn’t ready to tell this story to Jack yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be.

Jack raises an eyebrow, but simply hums as he looks back towards the sunset, “My Angel’s never used her powers before. Like you said, they go willy-nilly sometimes when she’s mad, but she’s never even left Hyperion before. She doesn’t even know her phase ability.”

Jack takes another swig of the whiskey.

“She’s out there all alone in BFE and she doesn’t even know what she’s capable of.”

The air grew quiet. Rhys looks to Jack sympathetically. He notices the absolute desolation in Jack’s expression. He looked tired, both physically and emotionally.

“Jack, from the few moments I talked to Angel, I know she’s a strong woman. She’s brave, intelligent, and something fierce. I know she can hold her own, even if she doesn’t know much about her siren powers, and I promise everything is going to be okay,” Rhys breaks the silence. “ _I promise._ ”

Jack’s eyes connect with Rhys’, two blue oceans mixing with dark purple and green. Rhys, at some point when he was speaking, had grabbed onto Jack’s free hand that wasn’t holding onto the whiskey bottle. 

_Fuck._

Rhys was about to pull back with a mantra of apologies, but Jack held his hand tighter. His grasp was warm and comforting, making Rhys feel _safe_. They both looked to where they were connected before glancing to each other again. Rhys’ body nearly jumps when he feels Jack’s knee touch his from their close proximity. Rhys could practically feel the older man’s body heat from how close they were. But wait, _when did Jack move so close to Rhys on the couch?!_

Rhys’ heart was racing a mile a minute.

“Rhys-”

Before Jack can get another word out, the doors to the lounging area are swung open with a slam, causing the young prince to yelp, vault on the couch, and scamper away from Jack. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing the two that physically close together.

Jack’s once soothing, drained voice barks into a thundering boom. 

“ _What the hell do you want, Blake?_ ”

The scrawny man enters the room with a set of scrolls in his hands. God, did this guy just have to ruin _everything?_

“Sir, my apologies for… _interrupting_ , but your personal team has been assembled and is now waiting for you in your office.”

Jack sighs and caps the whiskey before putting it back on the alcohol rack, following Blake with a trailing Rhys behind him.

The trio make their way through the Grand Hall with the tall ceilings and glittering chandeliers, up the grand staircase, and towards the back of the corridor halls where the grandest set of double doors entered you into the gates of hell.

Jack opens the double doors with a golden key from his pocket and the heavy door is pushed open with a creak to the most lavish room in the castle Rhys has seen yet, even more extravagant than the ballroom.

Jack’s office, too, had ridiculously great ceilings. Along all the walls from the marble floor to the top of the room was just bookshelves upon bookshelves holding thousands of leather bound writings. The architecture of the room was decked out with arches and columns, lit in the warm light of candles upon _yet another chandelier_ and lamps surrounding all the room. In the center of the office, however, was an imposing mahogany desk strewn with scrolls and quills in front of a large velvet chair, perfectly suited for a King Jack.

In front of the desk stood a group of three people all now staring the young prince down, including a purple-haired woman with razor-sharp eyes, a beautiful dark skinned woman with a certain strange brimmed hat, and a man… identical to Jack himself.

Confused and meek, Rhys only raised his hand to wave.

“Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blake is toby from the office confirmed


	4. IV. just... jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for a brief anxiety attack in this chapter :'( i tried to get it over with as quick as i could and in as subjective detail possible without making it totally confusing. it's never outright mentioned but it's not that bad honestly. 
> 
> also, we hit 100 kudos! that it such a small number to most people, but to me that means the absolute world. i blush so hard when i read nice comments from you guys and all the love and support i'm getting from this truly makes me want to write more and more. this should be the last chapter before the ~actual plot~ and shtuff
> 
> again, thank you so much. it means to much to me. i love you biiitch

“Hi.”

Rhys nearly face palms himself at his awkwardness. For a prince from one of the biggest kingdoms in the land, he sure can be quite gauche sometimes. 

The young man watches as the three unknown strangers before him study the prince with raised brows. The woman with the armor and violet hair crosses her arms defensively, the keenness of her eyes reminding Rhys of sharp knives and blood. She had an icy, impassive, and matter-of-fact aura. The prince felt shivers down his back just looking at her.

The dark-skinned woman with the brimmed hat places her delicate gloved hands on her hips, standing akimbo. She held herself with the same standoffish behavior as the violet-haired woman next to her, but it was clear in her stance that she held more of an _attitude_. Her gold eyes glitter with the playful malevolence Rhys has seen before in Jack’s heterochromatic eyes. She tosses an unchaste glare at Jack.

“Who’s your new little toy, Jackie?” Her voice was mellow, rich, and sultry.

“Pipe it. He’s--”

“Prince Rhys Somerset of Atlas,” the young man interrupts as he gathers his charming prince composure, bowing gracefully in front the woman. “Pardon my...awkward entrance there. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

With that, the woman with the hat just stares at him with a cocked brow and a light guffaw.

“A prince, Jackie? I didn’t know you were kidnapping barely legal pretty princes from other kingdoms to keep now. Thought you were better than that,” she steps forward towards the older king, disregarding any respect and refusing to tremble in his presence.

As Rhys’ cheeks blush and his eyebrows knit with a pout, the king growls with a fond tone, brushing a small hair out of the woman’s face with his forefinger, “Wonderful to see you as well, Nisha.”

_Nisha._

_Queen of Lynchwood down in the southern Pandoran Wastelands._

Rhys has heard of Queen Nisha before. She was an absolutely ruthless royal leader in her kingdom of Lynchwood, a fairly small mining division mainly consisting of bandits, barbarians, and savages; however, she was respected well amongst her particularly uncivilized community, and they quaked before her the same way even the most noble of men would get on their knees to lick King Jack’s boots.

It was no surprise the two had some sort of relationship to each other.

Rhys had never seen her before, but this was not how he imagined she’d look like. Instead of the glittering crowns and divine dresses most queens wore as they sat proper and perfect, Nisha wore a brimmed hat and heeled boots with trousers. Over her vest she wore a thick, dark jacket tailcoat, on which over her heart glittered a golden star. Rhys didn’t know it then, but she held several different daggers, knives, and blades on the inside of her coat, along with a sheathed rapier on her hip.

She was downright _terrifying._

As Nisha smirks, Jack turns to the quiet man out of the three strangers, a man identical to himself in physical appearance, but not in general behavior or aura.

“Tim-Tam! Last I heard from you, you were were in the Frozen Wastes, kiddo! How’s my big brother doing?!” Jack reaches his arm out to ruffle the other’s hair, despite his whines and and attempts to break free from his grasp.

So he was Jack’s brother.

Twin, no doubt.

 _Dear god._ Rhys thought one Jack was far too much for this world, and now there’s two of them.

“I-I’m good, Jack. Sorry I haven't kept up with you much. When I was out on a mission, some bandits were after me while I got overrun by crystalisks and threshers and then I had to hide out for a few weeks in a small village before someone thought I was you and tried to kill me and- yeah. Turned pretty rough from there,” Tim shrugs meekly with a nervous beat of a laugh before catching gazes with Rhys. 

Let it be known that there is not a single universe where King Jack can be described as ‘soft’. However, when Rhys saw Tim blush with wide eyes towards the young prince, Rhys could not describe him with any other word. 

“U-Um, hi. I’m Timothy. Timothy Lawrence,” the twin bows his head slightly and holds out his gloved hand in front of him. “No prince or anything added to that. Heh. J-Just a vault hunter.”

_Cute._

Rhys puts out his own hand, the Eridium one, to shake the one offered to him and puts on his most lovely prince smile, “Regardless of title, _you_ are a definite badass. From what I heard just now, I would die within two steps doing what you guys do.”

Tim blushes even harder and laughs breathlessly, “I- uh- yeah. Y-Yeah, I guess. Thanks. Thank you.”

Rhys takes note that while Jack and Tim sound very similar in voice, Tim’s voice is just the _tiniest_ bit higher, and much more nasally. Rhys tried to imagine Jack stuttering the way Tim did, but he almost couldn’t.

He also took another mental note that after taking a long look at the brothers, he could very easily tell them apart. Of course, Jack’s face was covered with a mask of his own face where Tim’s cheeks were exposed and dusted with peppered freckles. Where Jack’s eyes crinkled with malice, Tim’s eyes gleamed with gentleness. Where Jack was toned, robust, and dominating in his body structure, Tim was lean, timid, and submissive.

Rhys’ thoughts lingered for a moment on Jack’s mask, wondering what was underneath it, but he knew better than to ever ask him about it unless he actually wanted Jack to slice his head off.

“Epicurus once said that self-sufficiency is the greatest of all wealth,” a surprisingly delicate voice pierces the air, almost directed towards Rhys, “and that freedom is the greatest fruit of self-sufficiency.”

Rhys is torn from his thoughts as everyone in the room turns to look at the violet-haired woman. Jack steps away from Tim and towards the woman in question, letting Tim finally exhale.

“Athenaaa!” Jack grins and spreads his arms wide. “Ooh! Haven’t seen you in ages, pumpkin! How’s my little goddess of wisdom doin’?”

Athena puts a hand up before Jack can trespass in her personal space, “First, _never_ call me ‘pumpkin’ ever again, and second, I’m was doing well before _someone_ needed to call me here for an emergency...or something...”

Jack claps his hands loudly at her words, causing Timmy to jump slightly and Nisha roll her eyes at the twin, hitting him lightly on the upper arm. Apparently it wasn’t lightly, however, because he held the weak spot and hissed.

“Of course! That’s why y’all are here in the first place, duh,” Jack rubs his hands together before putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his broad chest, the exact same stance Jack is seen from in all of his paintings. His expression turns from lively to somber in a matter of milliseconds. “My daughter… My Angel is missing.”

“W-What!?” Timothy’s voice cracks. “Angel’s missing?!”

“Yes, Tim, I just said that.”

“Where is she!?”

“ _Well_ , if you would let me keep talking, I’ll get to that,” Jack narrows his eyes. Tim’s cheeks bloom with light touches of pink, but he crosses his arms and waits for his brother to continue. “Anyway, Angel’s missing. As you all know, her proposal ceremony was supposed to happen this week. She never liked the idea of it and I felt horrible, honestly, but I didn’t expect to wake up the next morning to find out my baby ran away because of it.”

“How do you know she’s really missing?” Nisha raises a brow, “You know how she is. She goes into town sometimes to bond with the commoners.”

“See, pumpkin, that’s where _this_ beautiful face here comes in,” Jack gestures to Rhys with a wide grin, as if he was a prize. Rhys stands with crossed arms, unimpressed. It was unbelievable how the most powerful, deadly man on this side of the land was such a child sometimes. “Angel got real buddy-buddy with Rhys at the opening ball. She told him some things about wanting to get away from royalty, explore the world to find vaults, yadda yadda. Woke up the next morning to see my baby was gone and left behind a note that said, ‘Ask Rhys’.”

“She wants to be a vault hunter?” Athena questions with an unreadable tone in her voice.

“That’s _not_ the issue here, cupcake,” Jack glowers at her. “My friggin’ _daughter_ is missing. My little Angel is missing somewhere out there on this bitch of a planet and she doesn’t even know her phase ability yet! She’s in _danger!_ ”

“ _She doesn’t know her phase ability yet?_ ” Nisha’s eyes widen into an expression of shock. “Jack, how the hell does she not know her phase ability yet?”

“Do any of you _morons_ even hear what I’m saying!?” Jack barks, brows furrowed and canines sneering.

Tim opens his mouth nervously, “Th-The note said to ask Rhys, right? Does Rhys know where she could be?” 

The room quiets as everyone turns to look at the young prince, waiting to hear his response.

“She said… She said the Pandoran wastelands and Elpisan caves… and the Edens and Promethea…just to be free. She also mentioned the Vault of the Warrior--”

“ _The Vault of the fucking Warrior!_ ” Jack’s mood instantly snaps, bringing his hands up to pull on his usually perfectly coiffed hair. “Fuckfuckfuck--”

“Wait, w-what’s the Vault of the Warrior?” The young prince scans the room, curious and naive.

While Jack is busy pacing the room with clenched fists and mumbled curses, the three vault hunters turn towards the young prince.

“The Vault of the Warrior is a volcanic vault chamber containing an Eridian superweapon known as The Warrior,” Athena tells Rhys pragmatically. “It’s the most powerful vault currently in the Pandoran Wastelands in a region called Eridium Blight.”

“Lots of people died trying to open it,” Tim looks down to the floor sadly.

“Have you guys ever tried to open it?” Rhys questions.

“We’re vault hunters, not idiots,” Nisha rolls her eyes. “Are all pretty prince scoundrels this dense?”

“I’m not _dense_ , excuse you,” Rhys grinds his teeth and creases his brows in an angry pout.

“Oh, really? A coward prince like you is all charm and appearance, no quality or substance.”

“What the _hell_ do you know about me!” Rhys exclaims.

“Stop _fucking_ bickering!” Jack roars behind them. “I’m about to break all of your spleens, throw you all off the cliff, and watch as the rocks at the bottom impale your friggin’ bodies before you rot away in the water!”

Nisha scoffs and turns to the older man, “Alright, Jack, love? We’re going to help you find Angel, okay? We are going to find her, no matter how long it takes. You’re stressed because you’re afraid, but I know my godchild, and I know she’s strong, independent, and resourceful, just like her godmother.” 

Athena, like the practical woman Rhys sees her to be, gets straight to the point, “Agreed.”

It’s very strange to see people refuse to tremble under Jack’s death threats and furious rage. However, Jack said that he needed a team of people he trusts, and he knows that King Jack is not the type of man where he keeps his secrets on his sleeve. It would take years of gaining enough trust to let you inside Jack’s mind and heart and secrets. And during those long years, you realize that Jack is not exactly the type of man he makes himself out to be in paintings and passing legends.

But don’t tell him Rhys said that.

Nisha had outright said Jack was afraid, but instead of snapping her spleen, Jack simply clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly, chewing on his lip, clearly deep in thought.

Maybe Jack really was afraid, and Nisha knew exactly how to deal with that.

Rhys wondered how the two had met.

But that was for another time, because now Jack was rounding behind his desk to sit in his large leather chair. He tapped his fingers with one hand on the mahogany wood while the other hand rubbed his eyes, like he was exasperated.

“Okay, here’s the plan: we leave tomorrow morning the second the sun peeks over that horizon. We’re gonna get set up with weapons, supplies, and horses, and then we’ll head south. General target area is the Pandoran Wastelands, but there’s no way for sure we know she’s there. We’ll ask any passer-bys if they’ve seen her, get all the clues we can get.”

“A-Are you sure about this, Jack?” Tim wrings his hands from where he stands on the opposite side of Jack’s desk. “Like you said, we have no idea where she could even be. What if we’re out there forever trying to find her?”

“Then we’ll stay out there forever,” Jack growls soberly looks down towards a framed photo standing upon his desk. “Now leave me alone. Blake’s outside. He’ll give you kids some rooms to stay in for tonight.”

Nisha and Athena look to each other with curious looks before the former shrugs and walks out of Jack’s office. Athena follows behind her while Tim trails behind. Rhys turns to leave as well, but Jack’s sonorous voice stops him.

“Not you, cupcake. Come here a second.”

Tim looks at Rhys with a sympathetic, almost guilty, expression, knowing all too well what Jack is capable of when he’s alone with someone he needs to get rid of. 

He knows that if Jack would blame anyone for this, it would be the young prince standing next to him.

“Goodnight, Rhys..” Tim waves slightly before closing the heavy door behind him.

Rhys turns around on his heeled boot, pacing towards Jack’s desk.

The room is abnormally quiet. Evening was unfolding now, and the castle was silent to the point it was deafening.

“...You need something, Jack?” Rhys questions, noticing Jack wasn’t even looking at him.

The prince waits for the older man to say something, but he doesn’t. His eyes gaze off as if looking at something in the distance, unfocused and distracted. His eyes are tired, the eye bags of his mask even sinking deep above his sharp cheekbones.

Rhys was perfectly fine with the infamous king when he was around other people, but alone, all he wanted to do was leave the petrifying man’s presence. 

“J-Jack?”

The older man snaps out of his daze, looking toward the prince.

“Ah, sorry there, cupcake. Got lost in my thoughts for a second…” Jack rubs his face, ultimately drained and fuzzy. “I just- why-”

Jack doesn’t finish his sentence and trails off with a huff and a groan.

“Jack? Are you okay?” Rhys steps forward cautiously, wondering what the hell was going on through the man’s head.

“I’m fine, pumpkin,” he rubs his eyes again, “I- just- nevermind. It’s too late for this shit.”

“Too late for what?”

“ _God_ , why do you ask so many questions!? Why are you so- so-”

Jack closes his eyes as if he was holding back before exhaling deeply.

“Just forget all of that. Go to bed, pumpkin.”

“But-”

“ **Go.** ”

The young prince nearly sings his prayers for the king’s permission to leave, thankful for his still beating heart, which was now running miles a minute. 

But he couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt in his chest. 

He was genuinely concerned for Jack. He was curious about him. He _wanted_ to make sure he was okay.

Rhys suddenly remembers the way Jack’s hand sat on top of his when they were in the lounging room drinking whiskey together as Jack talked about Angel. The way Jack’s eyes softened in the sunlight when Rhys declared his promise.

Was that nothing?

Was that _nothing_ to Jack? While it set off butterflies in Rhys’ stomach and alarms in his head, was that just a way to vent his feelings and nothing else? Was Rhys just another one of Jack’s little toys, as Nisha had first called him?

Did Jack have _several_ toys?

The pang of hurt turned into a pang of anger, flaring in his ribcage like a napalm.

“Fine,” Rhys bows dramatically before turning on his heels, refusing to let his rage or pain show, “I bid you goodnight, King Jack.”

Rhys was far gone from using formalities with the older man at this point, but he wanted to detach from him. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with this in the first place, and now here he was, attempting to separate himself emotionally from the most powerful king around, who also happened to be the father of the siren princess he was being forced to court by his own mother. And he shouldn’t even be affixed with the older man anyway.

_Dear god._

He needs Vaughn.

“Wait, Rhys, I didn’t-”

Rhys closes the heavy door behind him with a dramatic slam before walking away with haste through the halls.

Tears pricked at his eyes. He was just...tired.

How the absolute _fuck_ did he get tied up in this mess?!

Rhys rubs his eyes free of the salt water glossing his pupils. He sniffs his nose and at that moment, he seems to almost look at himself from another person’s perspective. Here was the charming, gorgeous Prince Rhys Somerset of Atlas, a majorly successful mining and technology progressive kingdom from across seas, crying in the halls of Helios Castle because King Jack Lawrence of Hyperion was just- just-

 _Confusing. Dumb. Difficult._ Every word in the book.

Several guards give the young prince looks as his heels click on the reflective marble floors of the empty halls, lit by warm, flickering candlelight from candelabras, but he refuses to make eye contact with them. He’s never felt this sort of energy in his body before, a mix of anger and sadness and exhaustion. 

He makes his way up to a certain room before knocking hard enough on the door that the inhabitant inside would wake up to it, but not hard enough to rouse the neighbors.

He knocks for several moments, just lost in his thoughts, before it swings open suddenly.

Vaughn’s long hair is down from his usual bun and is now flowing over his shoulders. The shorter man rubs his blurry eyes before yawning slowly.

“Rhys? What’s wrong, brother?”

The young prince just sniffles and passes by the smaller man through the doorway.

“Just… Jack.”

Vaughn utters a small _‘ah’_ as if he completely understood everything from that one word, before closing the door and turning around to grab Rhys’ shoulders softly. Rhys’ chest begins to heave almost. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Woah, hey, buddy, listen to me. You’re gonna stay here for tonight, okay? Is that okay?” Vaughn rubs his hands up and down Rhys’ arms now, standing in front of his taller counterpart.

“J-Jack and I are leaving tomorrow morning at the c-crack of dawn though-”

“What?!”

 _Oh_ , right.

Rhys never got to have a moment alone from Jack all day to explain what the hell was going on to his best friend.

Did that much actually happen in just one day?

“A-Angel’s missing. She left a note for Jack to ask me about where she was, but I don’t know where she is! I don’t know! All she told me was that she wanted to get away from here and explore! But now Jack is making me come with him and Athena and Nisha and Timothy to go find her and Jack is just so confusing and he put his hand on mine but didn’t move it and he didn’t get mad at me but he also just used me to vent his feelings and he _used me_ and-”

Rhys chokes there and closes his eyes.

“Rhys, _breathe._ Breathe,” Vaughn grasps onto his arms, “You are okay. Take deep breaths. I’m right here.”

The only light in the room was a dim candle over by Vaughn’s nightstand and the bright moonlight of the full moon streaming in like white waves through the window. The strange lighting cast shadows on the duo and the room to make it feel like time wasn’t even real.

Rhys did what his best friend told him to do and took deep breaths.

Rhys wasn’t perfect in any way. Vaughn had to hold him and tell him to breathe a lot when he got like this. He didn’t know why this happens or what was wrong with him, but he was thankful to have a friend like Vaughn that didn’t judge him for it and even helped him through it.

God bless Vaughn.

Vaughn helped remind Rhys to breathe in fresh air and get through his...whatever this was. After the episode was mostly over, the duo sat in the kitchen area together where Vaughn made tea in the candlelight. As the bronze teapot whistled on the wood burning stove, Vaughn snatched it to pour the hot water in their teacups and placed tea leaves in them. When the shorter man gave Rhys his tea, the young prince’s nimble fingers wrapped around the cup and absorbed the heat happily, considering his body was dreary and cold and worn. It felt like a life source in his own hands.

Vaughn takes a small sip of his tea before looking to the prince, “So… what exactly happened today?”

Rhys puts his teacup down without removing his fingers.

“I suppose I should start from the beginning, right?”

And with that, Rhys tells Vaughn exactly what happened from when he woke up to that killer hangover to when Jack touched his hand to when he came sobbing to Vaughn’s door. Vaughn never interrupted his story once, besides when Rhys asked a rhetorical question to which he simply shrugged to, and he listened carefully.

At the end Vaughn sighs, “Damn. I just… King Jack held your hand?”

“Well, he didn’t hold it really. Our hands were kinda like on top of each other and our knees were touching and his eyes were looking into mine-”

“Okay, too much detail. But hey, didn’t I tell you that the guy was into dudes? I told you so?”

“He’s not into dudes!”

“Okay, but how do you know?”

“He-”

Rhys pauses. He didn’t exactly have evidence that Jack was not into guys, and the hand touching thing was pretty…

Yeah.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Rhys chuckles with his friend as they sip their tea.

“Still, he was only using me in that moment anyway. He was venting emotions. He got drunk to let it out. He didn’t want to be sober and bottled up. He’s using me as a sort of… escape, but doesn’t take me into consideration at all. And how did I even get tied up into all of this in the first place!?” Rhys groans and rests his head on his arms upon the table. “God, I just want to go home.”

“Me too,” Vaughn exhales, “Yvette would have a field day if you told her about this, y’know.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Rhys chuckles tiredly.

After that, the two friends spend a few more hours bonding, drinking tea, and playing with a deck of cards. After the sleep deprivation hits both of them, they became delusional and laughed at nearly everything the other person said or did. Their eyelids hung like anvils as they got drunk on friendship, not even speaking coherent words to each other in between giggles and cackles.

They ended up crashing on the bed with Rhys moaning about how thankful he was for Vaughn as a friend. They were both half asleep, and neither of the men remembered the sleepy conversation the next morning.

However, both of them will remember being woken up by the shout of a familiar voice outside the door that Rhys never wanted to hear again as his buzzing heart from the night before sank.

“Rhys, you saucy cap of a fool, I know you’re in there! _Wake up_ , kitten! We leave at dawn!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not medieval times anymore i literally don't even know what this is . i just wanna get the part with dragons and fairies and shit

**Author's Note:**

> hi follow my tumblr - bippingsauce.tumblr.com 
> 
> thank you for any comments, kudos, and bookmarks ♡


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